Friday, April 30, 2010

Thursday, April 29, 2010

I left out a few steps (most crucially low-pass contrast -- you'll notice my range is limited here), but someone just asked how I was getting the strokes to look brushy in P-shop. Easy! You blur (in this case filter>noise>median) and smudge!

I owe the smudge technique to Kieran Yanner who, of course, is leagues ahead of me with color. But once I find a way to compartmentalize that, I'm comin' for ya!!!

It's a poor artist who blames his tools. In lifedrawing, the model is, in effect, a tool in creating a pleasing image. I'll abide many things, but when people start making lame, outside excuses for their own ineptitude, as Crabby Pants Pastel does by blaming the model for her artistic misfires, someone eventually needs to call them on it. So today I went off on a tear that will pretty much assure I won't be going to that session anymore. Congrats if you're reading this, Crabby! You finally made me lose all composure! I don't think it was worth it, seeing as I'll be missing out on some great models and a great moderator, but I won't miss you one fucking bit, I guarantee. Crabby Pants Pastel -- shirker of gesture, paper defiler -- your artistic development died a long time ago. I hope the rest of you isn't far behind.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

These were done after sketch night, where I spent more time yammering and complaining than actually drawing. Inspector Kemp showed up (just couldn't leave him alone!), and so did a couple characters in the episode of Ugly Americans I had on in the background. Painfully unfunny show, btw. Thought it'd be remotely on par with Superjail since Augenblick Studios had a hand in it, which I guess was an unreasonable expectation to begin with. Few things are better than Superjail.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

He reminds me a lot of Inspector Kemp from Young Frankenstein, minus the monocle and screw-on hand.

Another astute officemate pointed out that I'm making these guys less weird than they actually are. I'm subconsciously trying to "fix" them when I should be going in the exact opposite direction. For example, I could have played up his ridiculously high collar, deeply inset raccoon eyes and bushy, bushy chops-- formed more of an opinion about him before I plunged in. I think opinion is what separates lively portraiture/caricature from dead reproductions. Only so much is actually important about people, and the rest can just go away or be downplayed.

Monday, April 19, 2010

I learned a terrifying new word this weekend. In the latest issue of Hi Fructose (good James Jean article in that, btw), Al Columbia mentions how Jim Woodring* pointed out that he draws the rictus (or "death smile" -- not sure what the plural of that is) a lot...where the eyes roll back and the mouth grins wickedly.

I kinda flub it at the drawing stage, so likeness is shot from the start (once again proving that drawing is everything and rendering ain't shit). What I get instead of "Oh hey, Peter Cushing!" is "That sorta looks like...who's that one dude in Star Wars? Grand Moff...something." or worse, "Neat old guy."

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Michael Smiley is anything but in this atrocious stab at caricature. The more I fussed with it, the worse it looked. I should have just drawn him as Tyres from Spaced...teeth and crazed expression and all.

Did this one over lunch break, but kept the lines in. Going any higher-def than this is physically painful for me, but I'll overcome that as I hone this shit.

Since someone asked, the lines I do with a standard round hard brush (control : pen pressure, value : 1), and the tones go in beneath with a large, square brush (control : initial direction, minimum diameter 100%), which forces me to focus on planes. When I want to appear fancy, I use an organic smudge tool to add brushy flourishes or blend edges. I also use smart blur and median filters to knock back areas that look too noisy, as I'm training myself to be more deliberate and less fussy.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Thanks to Vigil animator Jeremy Pantoja for sharing this link of English drunkards!I've been inspired by Matt Dixon and Milenko Tunjic's awesome stylistic portraits. Gonna jump on the train, just because I need the practice doing painterly value stuff. Will try to get color into future ones. Everyone likes color!

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Splashed a little color on, or too much...I can't even tell. Less than stoked about the washed-out end result, but what did I expect from such an overly methodical, automated process? If I can't finish it in a couple sittings, it's just going to lose that freshness...period. I guess I'll use a cropped version of this in the banner and call it a day.

It was good trial-and-error practice. I'll learn how to do this shit if it kills me.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

"I honestly never got too into life drawing classes." a friend of mine admitted in a recent chat. "Like i never saw someone go in bad and come out incredible."

I think there's some truth to that. It helps to come to the table with something -- an agenda, a hunger, a quest.

I'm reminded of the documentary Scratch, where DJ Shadow talks about the art of digging.

"There's the promise in these stacks* of finding something that you're going to use. ... It has almost a karmic element...I was meant to find this. ... Just being in here is a humbling experience. ...I honestly feel like the people that dig don't stop digging 'cuz it's a part of who we are. People that don't, you don't have to. It's not going to make a bad dj good, but it'll make a good dj better."

*lifedrawing sessions

You never know what you're going to find on a dig. Last week I learned a neat thing about calf muscles and ankles. This week I locked in on something I do that's damaging : I'm stretching the figures out too much, like taffy, and not letting them overlap and bunch up where they need to. The result is something like butterflies under glass. There's a subliminal urge, especially coming from a concept art background, to show rather than obscure. Push overlap! That's my new mantra.

The moderator was kind enough to lend me a book "The Undressed Art : Why We Draw" by Peter Steinhart. In it, the author says "We are less engaged in producing than we are in practicing. It's a refrain that runs through the work of even the best draftsmen and draftswomen. We do it not because we're good at it, but because there's some prospect that if we keep doing it, eventually we may be good."